The sky turns pink at about six thirty. Houses and shops have orangey glows in upstairs windows, lights turning on one by one, as people begin to wake up and start their days. The river running through the town reflects all of it, a mirror to a thousand lives happening all around them. It is quiet, punctured only with occasional birdsong from little robin redbreasts perching on icy gates kissed by Jack Frost in the night. Evie blows into her gloved hands, her breath visible like a dragon’s, and then rubs them together. She’s freezing.

‘Take two,’ the director, Brad, says, as somebody with a clapper board snaps it open, closed, then steps away from the camera. Duke and Daphne are in character as George and Hermione. Her heroine is in layered cream knitwear, a lavender scarf and bobble hat with matching mittens – accents of gold jewellery twinkling in the soft light. Her long hair is lightly curled in a way that could be accidental, but Evie saw her call time and knows for a fact she had two hours in hair and make-up.

Looking through one of the monitors it’s incredible to Evie how it all works. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let herself be overly impressed, but she has to admit this is cool. George and Hermione started out as thoughts in her head, when she was sat at her kitchen table in her pyjamas. And now here they are, walking and talking in exactly the ways she had decided they would walk and talk, a hundred people around them making sure it all goes to plan. She wishes her mom could see this. Evie snaps a photo, but deep down she knows her mom won’t fully understand what she’s saying when she tries to explain. Not unless it’s an especially rare lucid day. There’s a Christmas miracle Evie wouldn’t mind. She won’t hold out for it though. She knows better.

‘I don’t know,’ Duke says in character as George, the collar of his navy peacoat turned up against the back of his neck, a new golden sheen to his forehead that must be make-up but comes off as sun-kissed on camera. Evie doesn’t hate him when he’s in character. George isn’t Duke, and so it’s easier to watch in awe. ‘It’s what I promised my mother and every time I think I’m ready to break that promise I see her face. I can’t do that to her, Hermione. I just can’t.’