Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for; Meetcute #4

WC - 546

Invasion Of The Zombie Stags

"Why zombies?" Harry complained for the twentieth time, pressing his fingers into his ripped t-shirt so he didn't scratch his face. "This make up is bloody itchy. How on earth do woman do this everyday?"

The guys laughed, Seamus smacking him on the back. "Be glad you'll never find out," he replied cheerfully.

Harry rolled his eyes, looking at his friends for some support. Fred just shrugged, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"That we're dressed up as Zombies is your fault, you know. You made us all sit through Dawn of the Dead, and then Shaun of the Dead and then 28 Days Later, all in the same night. I don't know what you expected to happen."

Harry snorted. "I didn't expect George to decide that he actually want to be one of the bloody things."

Fred frowned. "Really? That thought never crossed your mind? Clearly we haven't taught you well enough yet. Besides, it's his stag night. We're all gonna look like zombies in the morning anyway."

Nodding his head, Harry conceded the point. "True enough."

Before the conversation could continue, Fred let go of Harry's shoulder, moving with enough force that Harry stumbled.

He fell against a man walking towards him, and he was about to apologise when the man pushed him hard, screaming as he stumbled backwards.

"ZOMBIES!" The man screeched, a look of terror on his face.

"Mate, mate," Harry said, putting his hands up. "It's make up!"

The screaming stopped and the man blinked. "Oh. I, uh, I knew that."

Harry chuckled. "Sure you did."

"Well, why on earth are you walking around like that anyway? Scaring normal folk! It's indecent."

Harry nodded to the group, who were all holding onto each other to stop them falling over with laughter as they watched Harry calm the man down.

"Stag night. Zombies. Apparently it's appropriate?" Harry shrugged.

The man shook his head. "It's not one I've ever heard of."

"Let me buy you a drink to make up for scaring you?" Harry offered, gesturing to the bar they'd been heading for.

"Oh, no, that's okay. I was just heading home from work. It's fine, really. I have an overactive imagination sometimes, that's all."

"Then let me buy you a drink because I think you're hot," Harry replied, tilting his head. "I promise, if you like me and agree to see me again, I won't show up looking like a member of the undead."

The man blushed at Harry words. "You want to date me?"

Harry grinned. "I want to find out more about this overactive imagination. Come on, one drink."

With a momentary hesitation, the man nodded. "Okay." He stuck his hand out. "I'm Draco."

Harry raised his hand to show the dried fake blood on his palm. "I'll not shake your hand for fear of getting this all over you, but it's nice to meet you. I'm Harry."

Draco tilted his head. "I've never seen a movie with a zombie called Harry before."

As the two led the way into the bar, the rest of the stags following on behind them, Harry asked, "Do zombies have names? Do I need a new name? My whole life has been a lie!"

Draco's laughter was buried in the noise of the club.