Presto lame-o! For a new Brooklyn spaghetti joint, being “Harry Potter-themed” isn’t a blessing — it’s an unforgivable curse.

Pasta Wiz, which opened in January, oddly pairs gluten-free, made-to-order Italian eats with a wizard’s lair environment. But fans of J.K. Rowling’s books and movies won’t be spellbound, they’ll be bloody peeved.

When the fast-casual restaurant debuted, the internet, with its unrelenting glorification of childlike behavior in adults, celebrated the arrival with its usual wit. “There’s now a Harry Potter-themed pasta restaurant in Brooklyn,” exclaimed Entertainment Weekly. Owner Alex Dimitrov egged them on. “We decorated in a Harry Potter style,” he told Gothamist.

So the fevered Muggle masses crammed aboard the Hogwarts Express — er, the L train — and arrived in New York’s only neighborhood with a pretentious Dunkin’ Donuts: Williamsburg. That’s how I found myself on a gloomy, residential block of First Street in front of Pasta Wiz. The vibe outside is welcoming, if you’re a fan of lurking at the doors of strip clubs.

Inside, the hard-core fan in me was crushed. Tears stained my round-framed glasses. I snapped my wand in anger. For the eatery’s aesthetic isn’t specifically Hogwarts Castle. It’s more like a Potter-y barn.

The restaurant, which aspires to be an Italian Chipotle, has two levels, which can seat about 100 customers. Gathered in a corner are some incongruous, vaguely magical knickknacks: a suit of armor, a wooden globe, electric candles, a baby grand piano, a severed hand, books you can’t read. It’s the sort of hoard you’d find at an antique shop’s going-out-of-business sale. What about Tom Riddle’s diary? A time-turner? A stuffed hippogriff?

The wizard-Italian combo is truly nonsensical.

When asked about the whereabouts of the Potterphanalia, a very kind employee told me, “We have a sorting hat!” It’s true. They do. But that’s about it.

OK, I might as well mangia. Perhaps there is an Instagram opportunity yet!

Wait, am I really ordering pasta here?

At Hogwarts, fictionally located in the Scottish Highlands, students nosh on haggis or cornish pasties — not farfalle. In Orlando, at Universal Studios’ Wizarding World of Harry Potter™ restaurant the Three Broomsticks™, menu items include quintessential British fare such as shepherd’s pie and fish and chips. Harry, Ron and Hermione never magicked up alfredo sauce. Neither did Merlin, Elphaba or Mickey Mouse in “Fantasia.” The wizard-Italian combo is truly nonsensical, like putting a meat patty between two donuts and calling it a “durger.”

Fast-casual Italian isn’t new. Noodles & Co., Panera and Barilla restaurants all serve quick and steamy spaghetti. You can get a personalized plate of pasta on pretty much any corner of the Upper West Side. And it will be better. I tried the Mediterranean Wiz ($11), a textbook mix of black olives, feta cheese, sundried tomatoes and zucchini served on fettuccine. The noodles were rubbery and the feta oozed like the slime of the magical creature known as a streeler.

Maybe it’s Potter-inspired after all.