Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than a son…
“Father, I didn’t! I didn’t, I swear it, Father, don’t send me back to the Dementors… No! Mother, no! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know! Don’t send me there, don’t let him! I’m your son! I’m your son!”
what she means:
Think about Bartemius Crouch Jr. for a sec. Born into a powerful Pureblood family. High expectations. Neglected by a father who was intent on becoming Minister of Magic. I mean, we don't really know about his mother, but she didn't seem like the kind of woman who was in the habit of defying her husband. And her son was always at school anyway, away from the TLC he so needed. They say that there are three types of factors that make us who we are. Biological, Psychological, Social. To quote Criminal Minds, "His genetics load the gun, his psychology aims it, and the environment pulls the trigger." Barty Crouch Jr. just happened to leave school at the height of Voldemort's power. Sucked into all that propaganda, fueled by his need to be accepted, to be loved. Followed around the Death Eaters, a sick pseudo-family. And he identified so much with Voldemort, with their "disappointing fathers" and abusive pasts... How many lives did Voldemort ruin? And how many real-world Voldemorts are there? I don't know, but Barty Crouch Jr. suddenly put Harry Potter into perspective for me.