Disclaimer: Once upon a time, in a magical place called the basement of Pancakes's house, the authors owned nothing. Well, perhaps this is a bit of an overstatement; they owned quite a lot. They did not, however, own the Harry Potter characters, or anything of that nature. Except in the domain of fanfiction; here the characters of Harry Potter were like the monkey bars on the playground of doom. But we don't own them. We just own the ideas. Okay, so we may have stolen those, too. But… well, yeah. Read on!

Summary: Do you like pancakes? Do you like shot glasses? Well, then have we got a story for you! Warning: May not actually include pancakes or shot glasses.

To Panama with Care

Harry Potter hated unlocking the front door to his apartment. The main reason for this loathing was the fact that, despite living with muggles for the majority of his life, he had never really figured out how to use keys. As a result, he would stand outside of his apartment for close to five minutes each day, turning the key upside-down time and time again, just to try to fit the damn thing in. This act was usually accompanied by a stream of profanity that any one of his neighbors could have recited perfectly at any given moment.

To make matters worse, upon finally entering his apartment, he was greeted with the all too familiar sight of Hermione Granger sprawled awkwardly on the couch with Ron Weasley.

"Hi, Ron. Hi, Hermione. Have a good day?"

They didn't respond, but it wasn't as if they needed to. The answer was quite apparent.

With a sigh, Harry made his way into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. Up until a couple of months ago, Harry would have never imagined something that graphic to be taking place on his couch. But a couple months ago, Harry didn't know that Ron and Hermione were dating. On that fateful afternoon, Ron decided the best way to break the news to Harry would be to have Hermione move in. Unfortunately for Harry, Ron did not put in enough forethought to alert him to the circumstances. So, Harry arrived home from work to see Hermione Granger, the bookish girl he had known since they were both eleven, walk out of his bathroom in only her underwear. If Harry had thought that was scarring, little did he know, it would only get worse.

All of a sudden, he heard the noise of what seemed to be a cow. Oh, dear God, not again.

Harry knew that he had to move out. If he wanted to ever think of his friends without any semblance of nausea (granted, it may have been a bit too late for that) he would have to find somewhere else to live. If he didn't, it was only a matter of time until he shot himself, or one of his best friends.

It was during that train of thought that Harry heard the familiar sound of an owl tapping its beak against the windowpane. The evening newspaper had arrived.

It wasn't as if Harry particularly liked the news. In fact, it usually depressed him. But, lately he had begun to find the news more interesting, mainly because he had discovered the ads for apartments. This search was pretty much the only thing the only thing that kept him sane. So far, his quest had proved fruitless, but he was not prepared to give up yet. One of these days, he would find the perfect apartment: clean, well-maintained, affordable, and close to a Starbucks.

Looking through this evening's paper, he finally came across an ad with potential:

Looking for roommate to share penthouse. 4 bdrms. 3 ½ bath. Fully functioning kitchen. Great view of city. Applicants must be able to cook and clean. Open house Sunday 3 pm – 5pm. Starbucks in lobby.

There was only the problem about the roommate; he would have preferred to live on his own.

He heard the cow noises come once again from the living room.

At this point, he didn't really care. Any roommate would be better than his current ones.

Later that night, Harry assumed his usual seat at the kitchen table, across from Ron and Hermione. They did not even pretend to notice his presence. Harry was quite aware that it was only his firm insistence that kept them all eating dinner at the same time. It took him more than half the meal to come up with the right words, even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't even be listening when he said them.

He cleared his throat loudly and stated as firmly as he could:

"I'm moving out as soon as I find an apartment."

However, this did not have the reaction that Harry had expected. Ron and Hermione broke apart immediately shocked expressions crossing both of their faces.

"What, mate? You're moving out? Why would you want to do that?" Ron inquired, seemingly stunned.

"Well," Harry ventured tentatively, "you guys kind of just, uh, make out all of the time, and, you know, sometimes, it's not just making out, and that's a little awkward."

Well, he wasn't being awarded any points for tact.

"Oh," said Hermione, "we hadn't realized it was that bad."

"We can try to tone it down a little, you know, shut the door and stuff," Ron suggested.

Harry smiled at Ron's attempt at diplomacy. "I think it'll be better if I just move out, for all of us. That way, you guys can keep doing whatever you're doing and I won't have to see it anymore. We all win. I'll visit you all the time. And, I'll make sure to call at least half an hour before I arrive, so that I won't catch you two in any… compromising positions."

"Well, if you're sure, Harry," Ron said, retaking Hermione's hand in a sickeningly sweet gesture.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

A/N: Georgina: TADA! That was the first chapter?

Peaches: Dudes! We rock!

Georgina: Pcha, yes.

Peaches: So, just in case you hadn't figured out by now, we are co-authoring this story under our co-author penname Pancakes.

Georgina: Which really should have been "Pancakes?" But the silly rules on about not letting us use question marks in our penname…

Peaches: Foiled again. Oh, and Georgina and Peaches aren't our real names.

Georgina: Just in case you thought that.

Peaches: EWWWW! And I'm not going to tell you why! EEEWW!

Georgina: She's a little messed in the head.

Peaches: Hey, I have a perfectly good reason for being grossed out.

Georgina: Does it have anything to do with the second chapter?

Peaches: No, what are you –

Georgina: Shh!! I'm just trying to make a segue here!

Peaches: Oh, right. Read chapter two when it shows up.

Georgina: Which will be sometime next week.

Peaches: We hope.

Georgina: Give us a review!

Peaches: Flames are appreciated! We will laugh at them!

Georgina: And, of course, we always appreciate praise for my wonderfulness, of which there is much.

Peaches: We all know I'm hotter.

Georgina: Whatever you say, Peaches.