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I didn't cry.
I didn't scream.
I didn't throw a childish tantrum.
Instead I immediately called my parents to check on them.
The explosion had been small, smaller than it could have been, and no one was hurt besides a few walls, some potted plants, and a sofa. But that wasn't what the concern was. The concern was how did someone get an explosive into the White House.
My parents were being moved to a new location until the investigation was over, and then they would return, but Christmas was almost here and we would be spending it at the manor.
Harry had been instructed to keep me at the apartment, but it was searched for explosives and the report had come back that we were safe.
Once we got word that we were okay, Harry decided that we should sleep.
He held me a bit tighter that night.
Over the next couple of weeks we were practically prisoners to our apartment.
The RR had claimed the attack on the White House, but we still didn't have any leads, and everyone was getting frustrated.
Whoever it was knew what they were doing, and they knew how to not leave a trail.
Harry was getting annoyed as well, and one night after dinner he told me about his frustrations.
"It's driving me crazy because i'm supposed to protect you from the RR, but I don't know who they are, and I don't know where they are, and I don't know how to protect you from something I can't see. It's like trying to shoot an invisible moving target and i'm constantly on edge because I don't know when they're going to strike."
The weekend before we were going to meet my family at the manor, Harry and I had our own Christmas.
I had wrapped his two presents when they arrived and put them under the tree, but Harry didn't know how to wrap presents, so I had to teach him, Harry covering every label on the boxes so I wouldn't know what the gifts were.
So the night we decided to open presents I turned on the fireplace, put on some cute and comfy pajamas and then met Harry in the living room.
He was sitting on the sofa in his sweatpants and a tee shirt, phone in hand.
"It's present time!" I skipped up to him and he laughed at me.
"Alright, come on."
We both sat down on the floor in front of the tree.
"Funny gift first or serious gift first?" He asked.
"Funny gift." I smiled and I handed him that present box before he handed me mine. "Open it."
He sighed with a smile on his face and tore the paper as he went to open the flat white box.
When he opened it I saw his eyebrows raise as he looked at what was inside and then held it up to me.
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"Listen to me, princess. I've had enough of your attitude. We're both in hell here. So either suck it up or shut up. Do I make myself clear?" -- Emma Winston never expected her father to become President of the United States. When she got accepted...