For that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their
own despair. . . .

I just wondered where you —” Ron broke off, shrugging. “Nothing. I’m going back to bed.”
“Just thought you’d come nosing around, did you?” Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had no idea what he’d walked in on, knew he hadn’t done it on purpose, but he didn’t care — at this moment he hated everything about Ron, right down to the several inches of bare ankle showing beneath his pajama trousers.

Uncle Vernon’s face worked furiously. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living-room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering.

First think of the person who lives in disguise,
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.
Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,
The middle of middle and the end of end?
And finally give me the sound often heard
During the search for a hard-to-find word.
Now string them together, and answer me this,
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?

Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
“What — what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.
“Teaching,” said Moody.
“Teach — Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
“Yep,” said Moody.
“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.