Author's note: This is based on the book by Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried, published in 1990.
The Things The Marauders Carried
Seventh Year James Potter carried his glasses, his school books (usually), and of course, his wand. He also carried a passionate love for a red headed girl named Lily, who did not quite love him back yet. Despite efforts spanning all of their seven years at school Lily still showed a…reluctance to be his girlfriend. His friends tell him that it's his lack of social graces are his downfall, and that he thinks that showing off and parading his talent (and arrogance) will eventually get him a date; what he fails to realize, of course, is that Lily is not like the other girls who faun over him for every little thing, or every little look.
What he did not realize, also, was that he terrorized a dear friend of Lily's: Severus Snape. James Potter carried an intense hatred of Snape, which he shared with his best friend Sirius Black. The two of them were terrible to Snape, always, always playing pranks on him, just because he was a greasy Slytherin.
James Potter carried the weight of a shared secret, a secret between four friends, protected by the Headmaster; the secret that one of his best friends was a werewolf.
Seventh Year Remus Lupin carried the scars of a vicious werewolf bite that tore apart his tiny little body, ripping apart his life. He carried the weight of hiding his secret, carefully traversing the hallways of a school where he finally had friends. Sometimes, the weight of his guilt is too much, and all he wants to do is curl up small and cry. Remus carries the guilt of betraying the trust of the one man who allowed him to come to Hogwarts; by encouraging his incorrigible friends in their rule-breaking, and of course, the fact that they became illegal animagi just to help him. What would the benevolent Dumbledore say if only he knew? No longer would he smile in pride at Remus' accomplishments, no longer would he give what Remus cherished the most-his trust. Remus carried the weight of it every day-the inevitable disappointment in old eyes set behind half moon glasses. Remus carried the scars of years and years of tearing himself up once a month, his tiny, skinny self almost breaking from its weight.
If not for his friends, Remus was sure, he'd have been a goner long ago.
Seventh Year Sirius Black carried the disappointment of his family, the adoration of his school (minus the Slytherins, of course), and the weight of having a werewolf for a best friend. All he wanted for Remus was happiness in whatever form it happened to take; after everything, Remus deserved to find happiness no matter what. Carrying the weight of being a white sheep in a Black family gave Sirius pride to carry on as a Gryffindor and strength to make his own way in the world, without the support of loving parents (like his friends had). It was difficult for him, trying to be a Gryffindor "Golden Boy" when all he got was shit for it back home, or from the Slytherins, who all felt betrayed by the Heir to the Moste Noble and Ancient House of Black.
Seventh Year Peter Pettigrew carried the shame of being weak, surrounding himself with the brightest and most loved students in the school; the Marauders. With no discernable talent of his own, and little courage to speak of, Peter followed James and Sirius reliably (they thought). Peter Pettigrew carried the weight of constant inferiority, the burning sting of failure when his friends only succeed in their classes, rising up to achieve top marks while he wallowed at the bottom, alone. Is it his fault that someone had finally paid him attention, promising him talents and glories like his friends could never imagine? He just thought that someone finally wanted him, his powers and not them. The weight of spying on his only friends was surprisingly lighter than he thought it would be; after all, Peter was scared and being offered protection from a rising power.
The Marauders carried the weight of Remus' pain every month, alone in agonizing torture; torture inflicted on himself, screaming into the night with no one there to listen, no one to help. In an attempt to alleviate their friends' plight, the Marauders carried the weight of becoming illegal animagi, running around once a month under a full-bellied moon that might be considered beautiful, if not for the anguish it causes Remus Lupin every day of his life.
Sirius Black carried the weight of being the first Marauder to become an animagi-a huge black dog ("I'm the Grimm! I'm the Grimm!"), and the subsequent nickname Padfoot.
James Potter carried the weight of having an animagi form of a Stag-a tall proud, gangly thing called Prongs.
Peter Pettigrew carried the weight of being the last of his friends (of course) to fully become an animagi ("Oh no, it's worse than a hedgehog!"), a tiny, sneaky rat with the name Wormtail.
Severus Snape carried the heavy burden of his own nickname, given by Padfoot and Prongs. He carried the name Snivellus. He carried the Slytherin tradition of supporting the Dark Arts and, eventually, the darkest wizard time had seen. But Severus also carried his love for Lily Evans; a love he carried underneath his angry Slytherin hatred of mudbloods. He carried a better, more pure love than James Potter could ever carry!
They all carried the weight of a growing darkness; an enemy ever stronger, corrupting more and more, filling many hearts with hate and intolerance. It hung heavy between them-this mysterious evil that snuck into their minds, suspicion rising between them, where they had always promised to keep it away. Where they had promised to remain innocent and silly, and without even realizing, they had allowed it to creep into their lives, into the school where they never thought it could happen. And worst of all-the weight of a nagging guilt, the guilt of a secret betrayal of schoolboy friendships; guilt of thinking the worst of friends who could never have been closer, of thinking that somehow one of them had turned to the dark side.
Ultimately, the weight of a small, mousy boy's inferiority cultivated on the night of October 31st, 1981; the ultimate betrayal and the ultimate sacrifice of a baby boy who would have no idea the things his parents gave up, the things he himself had to give up when Peter Pettigrew told Voldemort where Lily and James Potter were hiding. It was the night that Wormtail assigned them a death sentence.
James Potter carried the weight of dying in a vain attempt at protecting his son and his wife.
Harry Potter carried the weight of having dead parents, and unbeknownst to him, the deep blood magic of his Mother, protecting him.
Sirius Black carried the weight of being unjustly locked away for 12 years for a crime that he did not commit (although, given the chance, he would have).
Remus Lupin carried the weight of blaming his best friend for the death of his two other best friends, being alone for 12 years, and his terrifying lycanthropy.
Severus Snape carried the weight of losing his forever-unrequited love, the burden of protecting his love's only son, the hatred for that son when he arrived at Hogwarts, looking like that arrogant James Potter, but with Lily's green eyes.
Most striking is the thing that they all carried, Lily and James and Sirius and Remus and even Peter and Snape: A loss of innocence; the darkness surrounding and swallowing them whole; each dying young, each with regrets. Their generation was plagued with the tragedy of these things that they carried.