Harry Potter Wallpapers Aesthetic Novels & Stories

“Why are you sighing anyway?” “Come here and help me pick a product.” She quickly stood up and walked towards my chair and I pulled her on my lap, inhaling her sweet cherry scent, and showed her the screen of the laptop. “This is purple damask wallpaper and this is red and black vinyl wallpaper. Which one do you think will suit this room?” Her eyes were wide and glittery as she squinted at the three-dimensional model of the room and aped at me. “Is that a pole?”

They rarely get sunlight here, that’s for sure. All the more reason to be grateful for the giant-ass, floor-to-ceiling windows in the tall room. There were maroon-colored curtains on either side of the windows, with golden tassels holding them back. The center window had a little reading seat attached to it, and near the other two windows were two study desks. On either side of the room, there were two beds with canopies over them, maroon and gold, as if I’d walked into the Gryffindor Dorms in Harry Potter.

I could feel it, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against my skin. We stepped into a clearing, and my breath hitched. A vast wall, half-swallowed by creeping ivy, loomed before us. Murals. I moved closer, brushing away the leaves with trembling fingers. Time had chipped away at the paint, but the images remained hauntingly clear. A witch, her arms outstretched, her hair billowing like wildfire. A werewolf, his golden eyes alight with hunger. He knelt before her, hands clasped, devotion etched into his face.

As we walk in, an envelope falls from a brunette’s carelessly-zipped backpack and I help her pick it up before she can walk past it. “Thank you.” She beams brightly at me. I don’t bother to answer. I’m not here to make friends, and won’t engage with anyone to the extent of developing attachments. I finally walk into a wide fancy hall way, and I let my eyes roam. Beautiful paintings line the wall. Most of them are eerie. A big black wolf. A high castle surrounded by butterflies. Snakes curled around black flowers. And a dragon painting. A chilling tingle creeps up my arm, traveling to my spine as I access the dragon painting specifically. It’s…big.

Ding, ding, ding, we pull away to see Silvia standing on the stage. “Can the birthday girl please come to the stage.” Silvia says and I feel Octavia stiffen in my hold, she knows what’s coming. We walk up to the stage and our dads come through the side door attached to the stage, holing her cake; a Harry Potter themed three tier cake, the bottom layer is Green (Slytherin), dark chocolate devils’ cake, the middle layer is Blue (Ravenclaw), milk chocolate mud cake and the top layer is the Marauders map, with a silver wolf howling on the top, it’s a white chocolate and raspberry centre sponge cake. There is black frosted roses and other HP symbols positioned around it.

Filling the other three walls is a collection of booths and tables, intimate and lit by a candle in the center of each. The centre of the space is a wooden dance floor that’s already filled with people moving and shaking to a song that she has never heard, probably because it’s in French. In the far corner is a dark hallway with a velvet rope stretched across it leading, she suspects, to a VIP section that she can’t see. It's gorgeous and magical and full of inspiration, from the people to the room itself. “You know who’d hang out here?” Monica asks Molly, who lifts an eyebrow. “Bellatrix Lestrange.” “You’re into Harry Potter?” Yori asks. “I went to the Harry Potter part of Universal Studios

She had already passed me that look of hers which conveyed 'stop looking at me like you have to babysit me. The lights dimmed and Hedwig's theme played indicating that we were watching Harry Potter. This series was one of those that no one could hate, so the atmosphere was very peaceful. As the movie progressed, I looked at my Bellé. Her dark curls were tied into plaits resting on one shoulder while the gray top hung on her body. Everything about Rosaleigh was no doubt classy. Her deep blue eyes took in the television screen while I continued observing her. She was a piece of heavenly art.

my laugh becoming more and more uncontrollable. “You should be happy I don’t crave werewolf brain, no one will be safe in this house” she says with a mouthful. As I step closer to her, I notice the intricately designed wallpaper in the room, adorned with delicate floral patterns that add a touch of elegance to the space. The room itself is neat and tidy, with soft lighting that creates a warm and cozy ambiance. “Are the wallpapers new?” I ask out of sheer curiosity and she gives a honest response. “Silver was out for some time and she thinks they’ll look lovely in the room”.

she added, walking to the counter. The room looked like a witchery Lab; it had framed worn out, as well as new photos of diverse plants, hung on the walls. The only photo, which carried that of a living being, was the black and white image of a young woman who seemed to be the deceased Queen of the witches. Aside from that, there was a huge counter in the middle, which had several empty concoction bottles, and bowls containing unprocessed herbs littered on it. The room did not fail to give out its sorcery vibes, as two shelves stood facing each other at the opposite walls. I needed no one to tell me what filled the shelves were potions, poison, elixirs and herbs.

She'd painted stories that had made her childhood happy. There was a rotund yellow bear snoozing beneath a tree, a hive full of honey far out of his reach. The next wall showed a young girl perched on a window seat, white curtains billowing into her room. A distant star above a London skyline shimmered, and the silhouette of a boy who could fly covered part of the window, a tiny fairy above his shoulder. The next wall showed a boy wizard riding in a boat toward a distant castle, a distinctive scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. The last wall showed a sleeping princess and a prince on one knee beside her bed, inches away from giving her love's true kiss.