Blaise’s face contorted into a pained grimace. "They set my home on fire," he said quietly. "They thought I was inside when they cursed it, and they probably think I’m dead, art least for now, although I managed to escape." Luna went closer and touched his hand softly, comforting him. "Nineteen... Nineteen generations lived in that house... My parents, my grandparents, my grandparents... My children were supposed to grow up there... Now it’s all gone..." His voice broke more and more with every word he said.