Zach ditched the reception as soon as possible, which wasn't as soon as he liked. Of course, that might've had something to do with not wanting to be there at all. Despite his best attempts at evasion his parents had caught up with him and proceeded to introduce him to six or seven pureblood girls. The wedding seemed to have energized their efforts at marrying him off, unfortunately.
Then he had to rush home, toss on a random quidditch shirt he found, that happened to be a Falmouth Falcons shirt, but he couldn't be bothered to care. Zach glanced in the mirror only once, but was pissed that he did it, as he always was whenever he did so. He really just needed to take down the mirror, it was clearly turning him into a bird.
Arriving at the match, he practically flew up the stairs, slowing down as he came out into the stands and looked around for his seat and Longbottom. Why was he rushing? Why was he here in the first place? Rubbing his face he headed up the stairs to the row. Spotting Longbottom, who was distracted ordering a beer he shoved along the row making a rather rude hand gesture at the complainers. He practically fell into the seat, jostling Neville as he tipped into it. Zach gave their neighbors they eye for tripping him, but quickly offered Longbottom a tired smile, "Hey, buying me my drinks? I could use more than a few."