Disclaimer: As in all fanfiction, I absolutely do not own the characters, places, etc. that I've used. I've just decided to write out what I think could have happened in this instance. Also, all of the dialogue in this story, along with all italicized passages, is taken directly from Deathly Hallows, from the chapter bearing the same name as this one-shot.
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The Flaw In The Plan
"The boy...is he dead?"
There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Harry, but he felt their concentrated gaze, it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid would twitch.
"You," said Voldemort, and there was a loud bang and a small shriek of pain, "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
Narcissa was shaking as she picked herself up off of the cold forest floor, her stomach throbbing from where the Dark Lord's curse had hit her. As she stepped forward she touched the tender spot to inspect the damage and winced. The Dark Lord had hit her true,
She was conscious of masked eyes watching her as she stepped through the crowd. The Dark Lord was, thankfully, no longer watching her - his attention had returned to the Potter boy's corpse as soon as Narcissa began to obey him. With his gaze no longer following her, many of the Death Eaters refocused their interest on Potter. She was thankful for it - she was terrified enough as it was without every person in the clearing watching her every move.
Narcissa shuffled forward, her heart beating frantically in her chest. She stared at Potter lying face down on the ground in front of her - he looked as dead as one possibly could: his arm was bent at an awkward angle, his mouth was gaping open and his glasses had been knocked askew when he fell. He made no sign of movement; not a single inclination that his position was uncomfortable, or that he could feel at all.
She swallowed fearfully and dropped to her knees in front of the boy. She could feel the Dark Lord's eyes on her as she turned Potter's head gently to face her. Her master's gaze made her hands shake more violently as she lifted one of the boy's eyelids, revealing the startling green iris beneath that had so resembled his mother's. The pupil dilated.
Narcissa withdrew her hand quickly in surprise and his eyelid fell back down a little slower than it should have. She released a shaky breath and touched his face - it was still warm. As she examined his countenance, felt the warmth of life pulsing in his veins, her heart began to pound fiercely in her chest. He was alive! How was it possible? She started to open her mouth to pronounce that Potter was, in fact, still quite alive, when she was struck with how much he resembled his father. She swallowed the proclamation that had been on her lips and stared at Potter. She began to shake again as her eyes raked over his face. People had been saying it ever since he had shown up at Hogwarts seven years ago, but it was only now, when they were both in such danger that she noticed it. She didn't know what made her notice it, whether it was the danger, or the mixed feelings of relief, shock and confusion that were raking through her, but whatever it was, it was an extremely strange thought to have at such a time, and as her eyes swallowed up every inch of his face, the fear she had been feeling for herself, her family and the fate of the wizarding world was swallowed up by sorrow that was seventeen years overdue.
Narcissa closed her eyes in an attempt to keep her emotions in check, but was greeted instead by a plethora of memories assaulting her consciousness. She remembered seeing James for the first time after Hogwarts at her father's funeral. It had been strange that he had been there, and she had longed to ask him why, though she hadn't dared to approach remembered seeing James for the first time after Hogwarts at her father's funeral. It had been strange that he had been there, and she had longed to ask him why, though she hadn't dared to approach him. And she remembered the many late nights they had spent in one another's arms while Lucius was out doing Salazar-knows-what for the Dark Lord. She remembered, most painfully, perhaps, the look on his face when she told him she couldn't see him anymore. It had tortured her to turn him remembered seeing the announcement that he had gotten married to Lily Evans and she remembered the rage she had felt that he had replaced her with a Mudblood. She remembered the indifference she felt when she heard that he was dead.
Narcissa forced her eyes open and was surprised to find that she was still in the Forbidden Forest. Her hands were still on Harry's face, gripping his jaw fiercely. She bit her lip to keep her jaw from shaking and removed her hand from Harry's face. The shuffling of a boot behind her reminded her how many eyes were upon her and how long she was taking with the examination. Quickly, she slipped her fingers beneath his shirt, down to his chest to feel his heart. It was beating as furiously as her own. Relief flooded her - James Potter's son was alive.
A twig cracking behind her once again reminded her of where she was and how many eyes were upon her. Narcissa quickly shut the relief out, fearing that she had already lingered for too long and that the Dark Lord would start to suspect that she was up to something. She bent her head so that her hair fell across both of her and Harry's faces and chewed her lip, avoiding looking at his face. She could not afford to be swallowed up by memories again. The smallest change in her features would give her away to the Dark Lord. And none of her family could afford any more errors. She glanced to her right, through the long curtain of her hair where she knew the Dark Lord stood. She couldn't see him, but she could see those around him: they were getting restless.
Narcissa caught the eye of her husband, and felt her heart constrict. His eyes bore into hers, begging her to hurry, to pronounce that Potter was dead, but at the same time fearing that he was. They both knew, now, that Potter was the only chance they and their son had at a normal life - if the Dark Lord won this battle, life would only become more volatile than it already was. Their adoration of him from the early days had dwindled away slowly with each time he proved his mistrust and lack of appreciation of even his most loyal servants. Both had come to feel, deep down, that the future he offered them - one of near-slavery, violence and blood - was not worth fighting for. And Narcissa knew now that she wasn't prepared to settle for it. Especially not for Draco.
Draco. Worry clutched at her as she thought about her son. She turned her attention back to Harry quickly, all thoughts now on Draco and needing news about him. She ducked her head so that her lips were inches from Harry's ear and breathed, "Is Draco alive? Is he up at the castle?"
The seconds between her queries and Harry's answer were agony. Fear encompassed her again, fighting the despair for dominance. Finally he answered, though she had to incline her head closer to his lips to hear him - "Yes."
Relief flooded through Narcissa, but the only sign she gave of having heard him was the slight contraction of her fingers on his chest. She did not even release the sigh of relief that was begging to escape her lips. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a brief moment to rejoice. Draco was alive. He was alive.
Narcissa opened her eyes, withdrew her hand and stood, showing no trace of the joy she felt at the news on her face. All the same, she avoided the Dark Lord's piercing gaze, instead finding Lucius' weary one. "He is dead!"
And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through his eyelids Harry saw bursts of red and silver light shooting into the air in celebration.
Narcissa ducked around the rejoicing Death Eaters, dodging a spray of silver that came from Valentin Nott's wand, and rejoined Lucius at the back of the clearing. Her face betrayed none of the feelings reeling inside her. Lucius stared at her from beneath his mask, his eyes wide. "Dead?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice tinged with fear.
Narcissa nodded - she daren't say anything else when surrounded by Death Eaters, though she longed to tell him that their son was alive. Instead, she took Lucius' hand and squeezed it tightly, hoping to communicate to him through the simple action.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Dark Lord raise Harry's body and her entire body went rigid with fear. She hadn't considered that the Dark Lord would play with his body before moving onto the castle. Narcissa griped Lucius' hand still tighter and stared at the ground below Potter's body. Any moment now, the Dark Lord would begin, Harry would scream, and Narcissa would be as good as dead. She wanted to look away, to run to the castle and snatch Draco away and flee. But she remained frozen to the spot as Potter's body began to bounce and flail in the air, and she could hear Bellatrix begin to howl with laughter. An involuntary shudder ran through her and she squeezed Lucius' hand tighter, waiting for the scream that was bound to come from the boy's lips. But it did not come. Not a single moan, groan or whimper came from Harry Potter's limp body, and if she hadn't felt his heart beating beneath her hand, seen his chest rise gently or heard his whispered answer to her questions, she would not have believed that he could have been alive. No, Harry did not make a sound - the only sound that could be heard in the clearing besides the jeering of the Death Eaters was the sobbing of Harry's half-breed friend.
"Now," said Voldemort, "we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. "
Everyone in the clearing moved as one, eager to please - or at least, eager not to displease - their Lord. Even the moaning half-breed, who carried Potter like he was an infant. Fear and adrenaline pumped through Narcissa as she walked silently next to Lucius, but beneath this, hope burgeoned; her son was still alive. She was going to him. And the Chosen One Lived.