Angela had spent a decent portion of her life sneaking and making herself otherwise unnoticed, and therefore was quite aware she was being stared at. She pretended she didn't notice until it got to the point where it was distracting her from the florists' ads she was sifting through.
She turned and looked him in the eye, "Gilbert, either sit down or don't, but stop skulking about. You look ridiculous." He really never had been suited to sneaking, and watching him try was nothing short of painful. It was rather like her own efforts at Transfiguration.
It was strange to see, though. Although she'd known intellectually that everyone would change, it was a jolt to come back and be confronted with evidence of how much. Necessary, yes, but some part of her did mourn the time not spent amongst other witches and wizards.