It was the only time she'd seen real fear on her father's face.

Her mother had had to work that day. "Don't splortch yourself, or whatever they call it," she'd called over her shoulder in the offhand tone that Ang knew covered up maternal worry.

They'd arrived at the Ministry, checked in, and waited their turn. Surely her father had witnessed Apparation before, with Great-Auntie G. and the other magical relatives around.

He stood at the edge of the room as Ang took her place and received her instructions from the examiner. He nodded, she concentrated and--

POP

The transition felt instantaneous to her. She reappeared well within the confines of the hoop, and turned to grin triumphantly at her dad. Her face fell when she saw him--his face was a horrible sort of grey, and he looked like he would be ill at the slightest provocation. He managed a weak smile for her as his colour began to return.

It was only then that it really began to sink in just how much of an adjustment it was for the Muggle parents of a magical child. It was one thing to know that people Apparated, but quite another to see your little girl, your only child, disappear in front of your eyes and leave you wondering, if only for a split second, if she was going to come back.

By the time they got through the administration part of it his colour had returned, though he still looked a little shell-shocked. They both blinked as they stepped out into a sunny day.

"I don't know about you, but I could use some ice cream."

She gave him the lopsided grin she'd gotten from him. "So could I."

He clapped her on the shoulder. "You did well, Ang."

"So did you, Dad."