I keep my eyes on him.
He isn't fooled, of course. He knows my 'assistance' is worthless. He thinks he knows it all. But it pleases him to play along, to have a Marauder of his own to toy with, like a cat with a mouse.
Vermin, he calls me. As if it wasn't I who nursed the Dark Lord back to health, who gave of my own body to resurrect our Master, bring him back to strength once again.
But I play along, too. I shuffle around, my eyes on the ground, a nothing, a zero, as always. And I squeal when he kicks me, the way he expects. And I bide my time.
He is the Dark Lord's favorite. Or so he thinks. He isn't the first to underestimate me. And not the last who will pay the price for doing so.
I keep my eyes on him.