The Provisional Laws of Acquired Behavior or Learning

Disclaimer: I don't at this time own any published work of Sega or JK Rowling, if I did I'd gut the current Sonic fandom and only allow literate people to contribute cutting the fandom back by 90% and improving the quality by the same percentage.

Authors Note: Someone needs to invent a flu cure that works, pronto. I'm going to write until it (the flu) is gone then self beta it before I even think of posting this colossal mess. Also copy and paste editing this time, let's try to keep some decent formatting this time around shall we?

Years Later…
In a London back alley bar, a female newsreader on the television narrated the day's news. "In other news media stunts in London emulating that of the recent game release of Sonic the Hedgehog are becoming increasingly more elaborate, is this a sign of a new Sonic movie in production? Our news correspondent in Tokyo talks with the Sega Sonic Team…"
In the corner of the same bar a lanky young boy in a faded blue hoodie delicately munched a chilidog washing it down with some non-alcoholic root beer, the bartender fondly joked that the only reason the kid came to his pub was because of the root beer he had specially imported from America.
Speaking of..
"Yo, Maurice you want a top up?" the old man behind the bar, who wouldn't have been out of place crawling out of someone's chimney at Christmas time when clad in red, called out in a Irish accent.
"You know me so well, keep it coming Ben" the boy spoke up from his chilidog, green eyes sparkling with contentment.
"You're a good kid, Maurice."
"You're only saying that because I help you move the kegs around"
"And my old back appreciates the hired help, Don't forget to come by Monday. We're getting a new shipment of that Harpoon craft stuff that's all the rage lately, I'll save ya a few bottles for when yer older"
"Thanks old man, that's real nice of you"

In the back alley the boy known as Maurice lowered his hoodie and yawned stretching and letting vibrant blue hair loose in the breeze then without a backward glance sprinted forward faster than the wind and just as visible.
It had been years since Harry now going by Maurice had made the decision to go travelling, the actually travelling hadn't happened instantly though to anyone else it might have appeared that way.
Maurice still attended school still slept over at the Dursley's but that was the extent of routine. Maurice simply picked a direction one day and ran with it only returning to the Dursley's to be seen by the neighbours on the walk to school, he grated at even that but allowed that there would be far less hassle this way and more time to run.

Harry had run south west on that first Saturday, influenced perhaps by the cold weather and ended up in Land's End, It had taken him till late Sunday night to return to Surrey to go to school on Monday and it had only taken that long because he didn't know geography well yet and spent half of Saturday and all of Sunday completely lost.
Harry diverted all of his attention towards maps and geography when in school from then on and was rather distraught to actually realise, or rather for it to actually sink in, that yes, the United Kingdom is an island and the water circles the land like that lone cornflake floating in milk that you'd rather ignore.
It was the difference of a matter of perspective really, a normal person can walk the distance he'd run from Surrey to Land's End in days where it had taken him half of one day to get there.
The average person who walked would appreciate the distance by the time it took them to cover it, Maurice who ran the entire distance at varying speeds of 50-200mph was a bit pouty at having his full pelt run cut off by the entirely-too-much-water-thank-you-very-much in his way.
It was a bit like getting box of cookies and finding crumbs because some greedy bloke had already gobbled the lot.
It would be a long while before Maurice would be free of the Dursley's thus able to get his own passport and travel internationally by himself, in short? Tracing a finger over the indicated island country in the big book of maps from the schools library with gritted teeth "This would have been so much easier if I had been born on the mainland" Suffice to say Harry wanted his legroom now please.

The name change came swiftly or rather instantly when Harry decided that 'Harry' was a particularly dull name for someone who had a superpower, coincidentally and on a totally unrelated note Dudley went through a phase of childish name calling and was surprisingly inventive for someone about as intelligent as a brick. While for Harry these insults slid off of him like water off a duck because Duddikins really had no equal as far as embarrassing nicknames went, Harry decided a name change was needed if only to remain un-associated with his relatives. It was surprisingly easy his hero's original first name was… actually quite embarrassing truthfully, but his middle name was at least bearable, Maurice.
Harry would never admit to his dying day that his class had been reading The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett that week in English class.

In the present a flash of blue wind buzzed cars and dodged around people and buses through the London boroughs with agility and lightning reaction time, leaping over low walls and the occasional animal.
Arriving in Charing Cross without much fanfare Maurice made his way to The Phoenix Garden a nice isolated park he'd discovered a while back just about ready for a midday nap on a bench when a hiss to his right captured his attention.
"Oi kid get out the street, you trying to get seen?"
Maurice eyed the shady looking bald man and wordlessly pointed to himself a blue brow raised.
"Yes you"
Maurice shrugged to himself its not like he couldn't just run off if he got in trouble and followed the stranger into the old fashioned tavern with the cauldron sign that… he'd never taken note of before for some odd reason…