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: Excuse me while I backdate my forgotten disclaimer across all my chapters, whoopsie!
Got my swivel chair, yay. Also note the world-building and cliff-hanger as next chapter we venture right off JKs plotline and further into AU territory. Not particularly happy with this chapter, mostly filler chapter here, Maurice hasn't left the UK yet he's exploring the 50+ magical enclaves and making unusual friends in unusual places off screen.
Just so you know there will be no OCs in this fic, ever. Tried to upload this chapter 8 times, 3 days in a row, wow just wow.

The thing you had to realise about the magical world was that it was expensive, hilariously so and that the currency system was deeply fundamentally broken.
Contrary to common belief the gold galleons were not spelled to be indestructible and could be smelted down and theoretically sold in the mundane markets apart from several safeguards.
Once gold was enchanted it became worthless, nobody trusted enchanted gold in the history of ever because gold held curses like nobodies business and the slightest dark magic contamination would sink into the metal and stay there, amplifying over time.
The majority of the wizarding wars and conflicts had been started and ended for/and/or/by cursed gold.
It was the reason the goblins were the only wizarding bank, storing gold deep underground allowed the gold to 'cool' as it were, the isolation from all magical influence forcing the magic to fade, that and only goblins knew how to dig that deep.
Wizards as a rule did not store gold in their houses long term, grey and dark wizards especially did not allow gold to sit next to their enchanted artefacts less the enchantments rub off and enter circulation.
Fun Fact: Did you know that galleon contamination accounts for 10% of all St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries admittance in all the following categories? Artefact Accidents, Creature-Induced Injuries, Magical Bugs and Diseases, Potions and Plant Poisoning and Spell Damage.
Contaminated galleons were The Wabbajack of the magical world.
For this reason the ICW had the unanimous cooperation with their non-magical counterparts (or in some cases cursed them into compliance). Gold with a magical index above 0.5 was tracked by globe spanning wards and if it ended up in completely non-magical hands the ICW task unit came down on the perpetrator like a ton of bricks with memory charms abound.

Contaminated gold was summarily recorded, disposed and replaced by Nicolas Flamel, in association with Gringotts since 1340.

So it was with this knowledge in hand provided by the goblins that Maurice spent the next 3 months on mail delivery duty to pretty much all of London earning enough usable magical currency for magical international travel and supplies, to say Maurice knew about his Potter Trust Vault at this point in time was a barefaced lie.
As explained by a rather recalcitrant Mr. Ollivander non-magical supplies that included things like metals, plastics and other artificial elements degraded in magical environments through prolonged exposure. Including non-magical produced paper currency and smelted coins.
Suffice to say Maurice was firmly convinced that the person who had introduced the concept of "fetch quests" to gaming was actually a wizard.
At the end of three months Maurice was acquainted with over 90 British and Scottish wizarding settlements scattered around the island, in order to complete those "quests" Maurice had required a wand to enter those concealed settlements, this lead to a rather strange meeting even by Maurice's standards with Britain's premiere if eccentric wandmaker.

Mr. Garric Ollivander was an old man with pale electric blue eyes and he well and truly unnerved the heck out of Maurice.
Entering the wandmaker's shop in the first place Maurice took a good look around the place.
The shop was full of shelves with labelled boxes some bigger than others ranging from 5 inches to over a metre and a half long, staves perhaps. Odd bright pink enchanted feathers darted between boxes acting like feather dusters.
"Welcome to my shop young man, I'm afraid you've caught me in the midst of a bit of a spring cleaning"
Maurice jumped in place and span on the spot startled and horribly out of joint at the unexpected jump-scare.
"I-"
"Have come here for a wand no doubt, I can sense that you do not currently have one on you for some reason, ah follies of youth"
Maurice tried to calm his hammering heart. "How do I get a new one then?"
"Not familiar with the British way of doing things are you? The wand chooses the wizard, Come then lets get you fitted with a focus, I am Garric Ollivander, wandmaker and owner of this fine establishment and you are?"
Having finally gotten his heartbeat under control the supersonic boy responded "Maurice Bluewind"
Ollivander clapped his hands in realization "Ah yes Florean spoke to me about you, he said you travelled a lot is that right? I may have a job for you if your interested, phoenix feathers are getting remarkably harder to acquire… but wands first!"
Maurice likened the following events to being caught in a whirlpool, the problem was that Maurice was ambidextrous this meant that according to Ollivander the number of wands he could feasible use tripled.
Eventually after little success Ollivander give him a odd look "you don't have the bearing of a wand wielder you need something like a extension of yourself yet I don't think you'd appreciate a focus like a staff or blade, wait a minute" Ollivander vanished into the back room and came back with a leather bag. Placing it on the desk Ollivander removed a pair of what Maurice recognised as vambraces "Oriental war wizards wear these" Ollivander placed his wand on the top of the vambrace where its sank into the material with a water like ripple, strapping the vambrace onto his arm Ollivander cast a spell at a nearby cup by pointing his arm at it causing the cup to levitate.
"Casting from a vambrace like this requires a but more effort but leaves your hands free, of course duelling is markedly harder as you have to move your entire arm like you'd move a wand, a upside if this method of casting is aim, one wizard I knew could take the winds off a butterfly at 500 paces, and because the wand is against your whole arm you're drawing out more magic at a time."
Maurice paused as he caught the glint in Ollivander's eyes and just knew he'd have to go through all the wands again, with the vambraces this time.
Eventually Maurice left the shop 18 galleons down with a wand and a set of snug white leather vambraces hidden by his clothes, the wand he bought a phoenix feather and holly wand incorporated at the moment into his right brace. Once he chose an arm for the wand he could get another but he'd have to have gotten use to casting first Ollivander explained.
Maurice dreaded the eventual return to the wandmaker for another 3 hours testing more wands.

Maurice didn't use his wand for many things at all at most he wore his vambraces and memorised which bricks/dots/garden gnomes to tap to enter Britain's various magical settlements. Hogsmeade Village for example required a game of hopscotch on a set of cobles on the middle of a nature walk in the highlands three hops forward four back to reveal another path through the trees. In Vertic Alley in Glasgow you had to fist bump and high five a carved and age worn wooden statue of Benny Lynch the boxer which turned the wall behind him into a walkway and those were the least weird. Maurice decidedly tried to forget the creepy wax museum entranceway to UnKanie Alley in Inverkeithing.
His first job in the wizarding world had been to transport a magically expanded crate full of oak blocks and glass to Inverness down to Diagon alley neither of the items could withstand magical travel well for their intended purpose. The oak was riddled with creatures called bowtruckles and would go to Ollivander's wandshop to make magical foci, the oak that didn't make the cut would go to Eeylops Owl Emporium, Quality Quidditch Supplies and Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment as woodchips, bird food (bowtruckles), wooden display stands and fire timber respectively. The raw glass was made into potion vials and perfume bottles and the like using wizarding techniques.
Usually these deliveries were outsourced to Muggle delivery companies by a ministry front company however a recent law change in the muggle world had driven the price of such deliveries right up, resulting in wizards being hired to either fly or drive the deliveries themselves.

It was in the middle of such a delivery of armadillo shell cruising down a country road in Scotland at 250mph that Maurice was accosted by a goat, this is not a euphemism get your head out of the gutter.
The goat was glowing and silvery and spoke in his current employer Mr. Jiggers voice sounding worried.
"Bluewind, the shipment has been redirected, head to new drop-off point in Hogsmeade. Dervish & Banges will take the Armadillo Armor for now, Do not return to Diagon Alley until you've been given the all clear"
The ghostly goat faded away into mist.
Maurice blinked "What?"