Tifanie hated the British Ministry. Everyone here was just so cold. In France, one could not just draw up a seat without saying bonjour to anyone. At least not without committing social suicide. However, here people acted like greeting others would be the faux pas, as though being friendly was somehow wrong.
The upshot was that she knew practically nobody at her place of work. Not only did she work in the most secretive department, but there still wasn't anybody else assisting with her current project, no matter how much she tried to convince her superiors that in the muggle world, television was quickly being replaced by the internet. She suspected they thought she was talking about a method of fishing.
So there was also nobody to ensure she did her work down in the actual Department of Mysteries. It was so gloomy down there and it wasn't as though anybody cared what she was doing here in the café anyway. They probably thought she was just another secretary transcribing shorthand.
She reached for her milkshake but was quickly alerted to her loss by the loud slurping sound that emanated from her cup. She winced and didn't look up, sure that noise had garnered her the sort of attention she didn't really want. No wonder she barely knew anyone. People probably thought she was fresh out of Hogwarts.