Barty liked drawing.
He was currently lying on the living room floor, finishing a big drawing of himself, Mum, and Father, all standing happily together, right beside each other, holding hands, with Winky standing beside them. It was a happy picture.
He'd spent hours drawing this, and he hoped Father would come home soon, so that he could show it to him. And Father, he'd be proud, and tell him he was a good son, and that it was a very beautiful drawing. He so wanted to make his father proud.
Just when he was finished, he heard the bell ring.
Father was home.
He scrambled himself up from the floor, put away his pencils, then he carefully picked up his drawing.
"Master is home!", he heard Winky shout.
She always did that, to announce Father. Partially to keep Barty out of mischief. If he was doing something he shouldn't be doing, like pillaging Mum's marmelade stores, he could literally keep his shirt white and his fingers clean.
Barty ran to the door. Father was there, and some Ministry official. Barty could never remember all their names, and he didn't particularly want to remember them, but Father thought it was important.
"Father! Father! Look, I drew something for you!"
He showed Father the picture.
Father was so big, Barty had to look nearly straight up to see him.
"Barty, get out of the way, I have something to discuss with Mister Fox here."
Barty didn't like Mister Fox, now that he wanted to talk to Father.
"Here, look! Don't you like it, Father?"
He held it up to Father.
"Aren't you a little too old for such childish behaviour, Bartemius? Go to your room, I have to discuss something with Mister Fox."
His shoulders slumped. He put his picture under his arm, and turned around.
"Barty, your manners."
He turned around again.
"Good day, Mister Fox."
Then, he slowly went up to his room.
He put the picture right beside his bed, on his nightside stand, and stared at it.
It was a happy picture, of himself, Mum, and Father, holding hands, with Winky standing beside them.
He really didn't like the Ministry.
Years later, when Bartemius Crouch junior was all grown up, and sometimes, very seldomly, had doubts about his ability to follow the Dark Lord, all he had to do was to think about that happy picture, of himself, Mum, and Father, holding hands, with Winky standing beside them, and he knew why he was fighting.