He managed to stand his ground when the man reached for his wrist and started to hiss in parseltongue. Pain raced up his arm. It felt like it was splitting open. Severus tumbled to his knees, but in an instant, a warm hand on his chest pressed him back, back against strong, soft clad legs to keep him half-way upright. He could not help but take comfort; to anchor himself to the touch as to not lose his mind. The spell lasted an eternity, but when the pain ended, he looked at his wrist. The skin was free from any blemish for the first time in nearly twenty years. A sob escaped him. He swallowed the next forcefully.