The wizarding world was as transphobic as it was purist. Hermione knew this. So 'she' never transitioned, and led a life filled with crippling anxiety and only used she/her. But when 'she' realizes at the end of the muggle war that 'she' has become the master of the deathly Hallows, 'she' strikes up a deal with death.

Harry Potter has accepted his situation, he doesn't care about escape. He wasn't willing to be homeless so he played the waiting game, escaping for short periods of time whenever he got the chance. One day, after he's gotten away from the Dursley's, he sees something falling from the sky. going to investigate, he finds an odd substance that once he touches, latches on to him...

"There are plenty of more deserving people than me! Give this to someone who needs a second chance, my life was fine, I didn't even do well!" I shouted at the abyss in front of me. "You have helped millions of people!" It shouted back, exasperated. I didn't know gods could be exasperated. "But there are people who nee-" And with that, I was swept into unconsciousness.