With no Key-Ward to floo to Severus’s home Marvolo apparates a hundred metres down, in a dark alley so foreboding from a Warding Spell that not even a wretch or drunk would dare make their home in it. By the time he stands at Severus’s door, spell work no doubt painstakingly set by the other man presses passively around Marvolo, weighing his identity, nature, and current capabilities and conveying all of that information to the man who lives here, in this little ramshackle house on Spinner’s End.