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: Train of though publishing people, write a plot then meander all over the place like a river in china until you get to the point. Also MaskedRiderEnzo seemed to be under the impression that this fic is cancelled because of my absence, this is false. My laptop screen packed in so I've synced it to my tv to continue writing, this means that it's blurry as heck and until I fixed the settings it was robbing me of my will to write/live. Give me a month or so to get some new hardware and a swanky new swivel chair before I get back in the swing of things.

Entering the bar Maurice dodged the incoming projectile, an owl by zooming to the other side of the bar, getting a cheer of the patrons at his speed and a good natured chuckle out of the barman "Sorry about that kiddo, lunch time rush and all that, best go to the alley out back" the proprietor gestured at a leaving group.
Without a word Maurice followed them, the person who had ushered him in had already vanished in the crowd.
So Maurice watched as the group opened a magic gateway in a walled courtyard and hurriedly followed them in, forget Phoenix Garden this might be the coolest thing he'd ever seen.

Florean Fortescue was a kindly looking middle aged man with tawny brown hair and a bushy moustache who looked like he belonged on stage in Bollywood not manning a ice cream parlour in London. Of course having said that Maurice didn't begrudge the man his hobbies, why would he? When the man somehow made a ice cream sundae that smelt and tasted of chilidogs? Maurice was understandably directed to the Gringotts currency exchange when he tried to pay for his food.
A hidden society with a separate currency, what was the point of that exactly? Maurice wondered, but then again money vanishing into mysterious holes would probably be taken negatively by the government… or attributed to something like the Illuminati.
The mural with the poetic threat on the wall was soundly ignored and Maurice entered the white marble building he'd been directed to which was flanked at the entranceway by short green goblins.

2 hours later a exhausted Maurice returned to Florean Fortescue and ordered another chilli-sun-dog-dae to sink his woes into.
"Dare I ask what happened?" queried Florean with a amused tilt at Maurice's pouting.
"Set up a account-" *Yawn* "-took ages-" *yawn* "-reading everything."
Mr. Fortescue grimaced "Ah, Goblins and their paperwork, you have my sympathy. It's a good bank though"
It has to be said that Florean made some assumptions about the odd person before him, one that he was foreign, two that he was actually older than he looked and three that Maurice was actually his name, all those assumptions were wrong.

This is the same reason Maurice Bluewind formerly Harry James Potter went completely undetected and was able to set up a adult account and a, completely legal, if accidental false identity in Gringotts. Bluewind being a placeholder second name Maurice chose in a fit of pique at the unending stream of paperwork the goblin advisor had him going through.
Maurice would only realise that he'd created a completely new identity for himself when he actually looked at the account portfolio, including identification papers and passport that the goblin had given him at the end of the legalese. Naturally had Maurice actually consciously intended to create a fake identity the goblin enchantments on the parchment would have come down on his head like a ton of bricks.

Far away in a castle in the highlands and closer still in a underground building a single name was added to two separate registries, Maurice Bluewind was "born" in Magical Britain a Muggleborn and thus entitled to a Hogwarts invite.
In that same castle in the highlands a small gold key in a safe turned black and disintegrated, unable to make it back to Gringotts through the castles wards.
Maurice would find most of this out on his return to Surrey but presently he was sulking into his ice cream and people watching.

That's when Maurice heard the magical words.

"Did you know the price on the Knight Bus has gone up? Its outrageous, we used to be able to catch the bus at lunch time and be in Bulgaria a hour later." The shrill housewife grumbled loudly to the man beside her.
Maurice never listened to what the male beside her said as the possibility of a dream realised years early was screaming at him "Mr Fortescue what do you know about the Knight Bus?"
Fortescue hemmed "You're new here aren't you? How did that boy put it? The Knight Bus is a transport service for the stranded witch or wizard, its basically a magically expanded triple decker purple bus, you hold your wand out over a street to flag it down like hitchhiking."
So Maurice packed up and began to explore the Magical World he'd found himself in, first stop, a wand.

In a Secret Underground Research Laboratory...

More stuff exploded reducing grown men to tears, nuff said.