6 Baffling Attempts to Ride Harry Potter's Coattails

However, Stouffer claimed to have more compelling evidence: She invented the term "muggles" years earlier in her novel Rah, for example, and that book included several similar themes and motifs later used in the Harry Potter series.

Now she had something: Warner Bros., Rowling and the court system all started listening. Before the process, Stouffer repeatedly went to the press, speaking at length about the damning similarities between Harry Potter and her source material, and she had signed contracts, published books, and dated materials to prove it. When it finally came time to reveal her concrete evidence, however, it was ... less than compelling: Larry Potter was the story of a little boy coming to terms with the fact that he has to get glasses. His friend Lilly helps to cheer him up. That was the extent of the "damning evidence" -- the names sounded kind of similar.

Stouffer was not deterred: She argued that because the names were so similar, both boys wore glasses and both had a character named Lilly, Rowling had stolen Stouffer's intellectual property. The problem was that the booklet only had one paragraph where the boy is referred to as Larry Potter (the rest of the time it's just Larry). So Rowling's lawyers did a little digging, and discovered that though the booklet was supposedly written in 1988, the paragraph with the word "Potter" was typed in a different font from the rest of the document -- a font that didn't exist until 1993.

Woops! Bet you wish you had a time-turner right about now, eh, Nancy? OH, NERD SNAP!

Needless to say, the case was thrown out. But there was a silver lining for Stouffer, in that her works have now finally been published. Much in keeping with her love of altering original content, she's since changed key details of the Larry Potter story, and also expanded the title of her other book, Rah, to The Legend of Rah and the Muggles -- because she's still convinced that you can retroactively have an idea first.

The similarities between The Grey School and Hogwarts are numerous: Once they sign up, students are sorted into one of four houses: gnomes, sylphs, salamanders and undines. Adults are sorted into lodges. The houses compete each year for the House Hat and the Lodge cup. Students of the Grey School can take a wide variety of classes such as Introduction to Herbology, Potions and Brews, and Divination. But unlike Hogwarts, The Grey School does offer a focus in the Dark Arts -- you know, just in case you want to use your pretend powers for pretend evil.

Rowling herself even maintains that the magic used in the books is entirely made up. Though she has done extensive research into mythology, history and legend, she admits she doesn't know the first thing about magic and does not "believe in witchcraft." But petty concerns like those mean nothing to a man who once tried to create a real unicorn ... by surgically grafting a horn onto a goat.

Billy teams up with his two conspicuously familiar-sounding best friends: A know-it-all girl and a dull but loyal young boy. The owner of the magical pawn shop, Thurgood, a gruff old man with long hair and a beard, reveals that Billy is a wizard who comes from a powerful wizard...ing(?) family. They find out that the Viking God Loki (OK) decided to hide his scepter in the Spirit River (of course) and it's protected by a river dragon (obviously). The dragon is about to be released (wait ... from what? His guard duties?), and Billy is the only one who can stop it. At this point the movie hands the script and a small glossary of fantasy terms over to a group of non-English speaking Koreans and just hopes for the best. The results are not surprising: Something something evil scientist, yadda yadda magical birthdays, blah blah invisible doors to the spirit river.

The point is: A young boy prodigy discovers his special destiny and, with the help of his friends -- a brilliant young girl and a pure-hearted (if a little dim) young man --- saves the day with his trusty handheld magical device. Rowling would probably sue, but really, when you break it down like that, it sounds like she's stealing her plot from The Wizard in the first place.

Hairy Pothead and the Marijuana Stone is exactly what you'd expect from a publication called Cannabis Culture -- which is to say, something that seems funny while high, and embarrassing when (or if) you sober up the next day. It tells the story of a young boy who is rescued from his boring life on Mainstream Ave. and told that he is in fact a "weedster."

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Do we really have to type the rest of this out? How much do we get paid again? Whoa, how much? Really? All right, here goes:

Lucky Hairy gets to go to Hempwards School of Herbcraft and Weedery, where he learns from his teachers Professor McGanjagal and Alwaze Duinthedope. He discovers he has a talent for a game called Qanabbi and fuck you, that's enough. If you make us type one more drug-themed pun, we will quit and burn this website to the ground.

Ahem.

Really, a pot-themed Potter parody was almost as inevitable as a porn-themed one; nobody loves their terrible puns more than dudes with temporary brain damage and girls that have had two or more dicks in them at the same time. No one would have batted an eye if it wasn't for the book's author, Dana Larsen: At the time the novel was published, Larsen was running for office in Canada, and hoped the book would help him to gain popularity.

No, politics in Canada are not "just that chill." Larsen was one of the founding members of the Marijuana Party of Canada, whose sole aim is to end the prohibition on marijuana. Larsen eventually left the party in 2003 and joined the New Democratic Party instead. In 2008, the NDP made Larsen its candidate for Parliament in the West Vancouver-Sunshine Coast. Then, in a shocking turn of events, Larsen was forced to resign his candidacy when it became apparent that he *GASP* did a lot of drugs.

• They both had dark hair
• They both had glasses
• They both attended a boarding school
• They both rode on trains at one point
• They're both human beings with fingers

Ben contacted his cousin, who by this time had made a fortune off of the first Harry Potter film, and presented his undeniable evidence. Of course, J.K. publicly announced that Ben was in fact her inspiration and offered him half of her royalties just for living through childhood.

Wait, she didn't?! Madness!

Instead, J.K. politely dismissed the idea and decided not to pay her cousin for wearing glasses and being a kid annoying enough to warrant boarding school. Ben immediately went to the press, stating that, though the cousins hadn't spoken since they were teenagers, he was now overcome with a sense of betrayal: "She knows I'm broke and yet she hasn't reached out a finger to help."

J.K. finally commented publicly on the issue, once again denying that she was inspired by her cousin. She also pointed out the futility of the argument, saying that given the set of criteria that he based his claims on, she herself could be the "real Harry Potter." With nothing to lose except all human dignity, Ben decided to go on the show Lie Detector to prove ... something? It was unclear what. The show's most damning evidence was pictures of Ben as a teenager:

For Ben, vindication came in the form of a polygraph test that proved he was "telling the truth" when he claimed to be J.K.'s inspiration. That is to say, he truly believes deep down in his heart that he is the real Harry Potter. Just like every 11-year-old boy on Earth.

Sound familiar?

That's because, in what may have been the most ridiculous act of plagiarism ever, Bashu Publishing House printed thousands of books claiming to be the Rowling's next masterpiece that were not in fact Rowling's. An anonymous "author" took a word-for-word translation of The Hobbit and changed the names to those of Harry Potter and his friends (with the exception of Gandalf, who is apparently so unlike Dumbledore that any comparison would just be silly). He also added a chapter at the beginning, explaining how Harry was turned into a hobbit while taking a bath one day, and a few paragraphs at the end describing how he became human again.

You know, so as not to break continuity (he's a barely literate plagiarist, not a monster).

The fraud was discovered pretty quickly, but Bashu Publishing managed to sell thousands of copies before the injunction, and only fined about $3,500, so they came out well ahead. Due to its fame and rarity, the book might actually be a bit of a collector's item these days. If you're looking for one, you can recognize it by the entirely appropriate cover art: A composite of some Warner Bros. sketches from The Sorcerer's Stone fighting the dragon from Disney's Sleeping Beauty.

For more stolen concepts, check out 6 Famous Characters You Didn't Know Were Shameless Rip-Offs and 9 Foreign Rip-Offs Cooler Than The Hollywood Originals.