Dominic Maestro.
The name looks beautiful against the gold plating of the memorial. The name is beautiful, musical even. That is what Karen Maestro had thought when she first heard it yelled across the Ravenclaw Common Room all those years ago.
Dominic was just as beautiful as his name. Dark black hair, a little long so it hung down in his eyes, a lean but toned body, tall but not gangly, his eyes the color of a storm. Karen smiled as she remembered how she had thought of him when she was young as she stared at her husband's name. He had been so lovely then.
He had been older then her, by three years. She had thought she was the luckiest girl in the world when he had asked her out. Imagine her, plain, chubby little Karen McMillian, asked out by the strong, handsome, brilliant Dominic Maestro; it had been too good to be true.
Their first date, he showed her that he could play the piano. He took her to a music shop in Hogsmede, sat down and played and played, his long, thin fingers flying across the keys. She had fallen in love with him right there and then. Now that she thought about it, he probably knew it to.
He had kissed her that night, outside their Common Room. She thought then that their life would be perfect together. For a while, it was.
At the end of that magical first year, Dominic graduated. She had been so happy for him. He had gone on a trip around the world with one of the premier magical orchestras. It was a wonderful opportunity for him. He wrote her nice, long letters, the kind that every girlfriend longs to receive. She wrote back to him eagerly, hanging on his every word.
At the end of that year, he came back to England. He asked her to marry him. She had agreed. They had a small wedding in a small chapel by the sea. He was nineteen, she was sixteen. She never ended up finishing Hogwarts.
The muggle world was in turmoil that first year that they were married. Some German muggles had gotten the idea that dropping bombs on London was a good idea. Karen and Dominic had sent many nights in muggle sewer drains, waiting out the German raids. At the same time, Grindawald was marching on England, Dumbledore was refusing to confront him, and Grindawald's armies seemed poised to take over the ministry. Though it all, Domenic was at her side.
In 1945, Grindawald was defeated. Karen discovered she was pregnant, and Domenic's career took off. Karen was so excited about their new life together, she hardly noticed when Domenic's request became more like demands, or that her friends started to drift further and further away.
Fermata was born in December of was born a year and three days later. Harmony, Marcato , Trilla, and Octava soon followed. Karen had six children in ten years, a difficult task made even more difficult by her husband's increasing need to control every aspect of her life.
Her clothes, her food intake, her hairstyle, Domenic had a say in all of it. Karen had always been a passive woman, and she had never questioned her husband's decisions. But then the money stopped, Domenic's career started to dry up. Musical tastes changed in the 1960s, and Domenic's talents were no longer desired. It was then that the beating started.
They would happen every night, sometimes in the morning as well. Karen tried to keep her children in the dark about what was going on. She tried to cover her bruises. She tried to muffle her screams. For thirty years she had lived under the tyranny of a man who's hands had turned from instruments of joy to tools of pain.
And now it was all over.
Domenic Maestro.
She gazed at the name. In some ways she was sad that the name was on the memorial. Domenic was not the man that her neighbors and friends thought he was. Or perhaps he was that man, but he wasn't always that man.
Perhaps it was good that his name was on the memorial. This way, people would remember the brave man who played the piano and loved his children. This way, the man that they imagined Dominic Maestro would not be shattered as hers had been so many years ago.