Draco had grown up in a society even more buttoned up than the British royal family of the Muggles. Bare skin wasn't befitting, sweat only in respectable magical sports such as Quidditch. Sitting naked and sweaty in a wooden shed with complete strangers and even sharing the same bathwater afterwards? Unthinkable! His mother would faint at the thought alone, Draco was sure, which was why he hadn't even told her what he was up to every Saturday. He didn't really need to rebel these days. He was his own man. Still, he felt that going to the sauna was a way to regain some of the freedom that had been denied him in his youth, and that did him good. The fact that everything that could dangle was allowed to dangle was a nice side effect.