"He's not a pet. He's a responsibility," he says with a glance at Indrik, whose legs are still whirling like he's riding two invisible bicycles. He's not a smart creature. "And he doesn't understand you."

Rex takes the screwdriver and continues to be unnerving by not using it with his hands. It floats off under his direction, the door held in place and the whole thing is put together by what appears to be a squad of ghosts working in tandem. The constant small displays of his abilities are actually not calculated to be as unsettling as some find them. He's just much more comfortable with all this magic business than most. Its always been his life.

"However, I am attempting to train him to be less aggressive and I apologise for the inconvenience he has caused."