The very best characterization is the sort that is built up lovingly, using layers upon layers of details.
then she hid the two new boxes towards the back of cupboard with the worst of the best-before tinned apricots and canned soups. Her wand was somewhere back there too, tucked behind a set of cracked glass phials and her old brass scales. She didn't have much use for such things anymore, but no heart to throw them out just yet, either.
Managing a household is an art, and not a science. And the picture created through all your decisions and habits and the interactions between you and your family is one of the most interesting and revealing types of characterizations that I know of. Indeed, the dozens of small, intelligently-placed details here regarding housekeeping (mingling Muggle and wizarding concerns) speak to me more deeply than you could know.
Eileen and Severus are just compelling here: the mundane, low-key relationship you show us here is utterly persuasive. And their easy-going, unspoken affection and companionship perfectly sets up the horror of the ending.
and she pulled it across her lap, searching the index for 'abortifacient'.
Yes. Of course she did. Dear God.
Poor Eileen. And what happens to Severus is even more heartbreaking. The emotions here are all the more powerful for being understated: the wrench as the story shifts from a subtext of sorrow (because Severus will never come back, at least not as a son who lives under her roof) to one of much more profound loss and horror.
And the worst part is, of course, that she did this to herself. Because what goes around, comes around.
Thank you for this gift. I know I'll be rereading it several times. But perhaps not just today. Some stories pack too much of a wallop to be indulged in too frequently.